miercuri, 12 iunie 2013


"Forgive me,Father,for I will sin..."

I absolutely loathe the word "fine",it's like a jinx of mine.Every single damn time I even start to believe things are going fairly OK,something happens to make my knees go weak and my stomach to cringe.
Stating "normalcy" becomes the equivalent of "let's wait and see how long before it all goes to Hell".
Oh,man,take it from me: alcohol and tea don't go well together...If it weren't for my pulse,I'd think myself dead right now.
I just don't feel...real anymore.I'm always seeing things out of the corner of my eye,I'm constantly on the lookout for the next disaster,I'm forever bound to worry about every single fucking thing in the world.
When I cry,they say I'm weak and crazy.Well,maybe I am,maybe I've become so...
I just don't know how to cope with life as it is...I feel spiritually sick,like my soul has a wound I can't heal.
Or won't heal?Beats me.I'm either a masochist or insane-maybe both.
I absolutely loathe the word "fine" because it has become merely a cue for the Devil to step in.
My Devil.

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